in early spring,
the river is twining streams,
and tiny green isles.
Little River [Haiku]
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Old trees with tangled hanging tassels
by a deserted temple open to the river.
Rain, rain threw down the clay statues
and wind blew down this ancient building.
Wild birds nest in dusty shrines,
fishermen hold a bamboo lottery cup.
About to play the tune "Mountain Ghost," I stop:
the Verses of Chu make me too sad.
Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.

clouds - low & textured -
look yet angrier when seen
in the cold river.
A slender leaf
floats downstream.
Its tip touches
a stouter leaf,
sending the
slender leaf
spinning.
The leaf continues to
twist as it drifts,
Making it seem spastic,
but it neither rushes
nor dawdles.
It matches the flow,
letting gravity &
currents do all the work.
It races only when it
plunges through
a narrow channel,
But it downshifts just as
effortlessly as the
stream widens.
The leaf's action is
unforced, yielding to
energy imparted upon it.

lonely egret
wades in calm water,
awaiting lunch.